Infinite Parallel
by Suilven
Summary: Two lives, running side by side. Two phantoms, from the future that never was.


The image appeared in flickering orange hues; Shepard's eyes looking evenly out into the darkness. She exhaled slowly.

"If you're watching this, then I didn't come back. I'm sorry." Shepard ran her hands through her hair and sighed. "Shit, this is tougher than I thought it would be."

She paused again, and the low, static hum of her silence filled the room.

"Garrus, if you're out there and you survived this, then there's something you need to know. Well, a few things, I guess. First, you're the best friend I could have ever asked for… ever hoped for." Shepard's voice grew softer as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"It's been an honour to serve with you, and I don't know if I could have done it all without you—well, without everyone—but… you especially. You were the first one, after I… after I came back, who just _trusted_ me. More than I even trusted myself, honestly, at that point. When that rocket hit you and I didn't think you were going to make it… I don't think I'd realized until that moment how much it meant to find you again."

She smiled, in contrast with the sadness in her eyes.

"Do you remember all the nights we spent in the mess, going over gun specs and drooling over the new mods? I never thought I'd be grateful for my inability to sleep like a normal person. You know, I still don't know if you really couldn't sleep either, or if you were just humouring me so I wouldn't feel badly about keeping you awake." Shepard glanced up from where she was twisting her hands together in her lap. "I guess it doesn't matter, but thank you… for that. When I look back on everything, that time with you has been the best part of the last two years. I wish… I wish I could have…"

The ghost of Shepard stretched out her hand and the image jerked and then reappeared, the timestamp on the file having ticked forward a few minutes. When she finally spoke, her voice was almost inaudible.

"So, here's the part I… never had the chance to say. Those nights with you, having you with me, as part of my team… knowing you always had my six, no matter what. I just…"

She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath before opening them again.

"Through all of this, I fell in love with you. I love you, Garrus. I love you in a way I've never loved anyone. But, I couldn't tell you. I wanted to. It was just never the right time. There were always too many things bigger than the two of us.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know if you feel the same way." She rubbed at the edges of her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "I guess that's one good thing about telling you like this. I can pretend you…" Her voice broke, fracturing under the weight of her words. "I can pretend you loved me back."

The moment hung in the air and the emptiness; almost too achingly personal to watch. The great Commander Shepard, vulnerable, laid bare; her head bowed and shoulders trembling.

She collected herself slowly, winding her arms around her chest as if the force of her confession had shattered her ribcage; splinters of bone piercing delicate flesh.

"I should've told you. Maybe I will. We're only a few hours away from Earth now. If I make it—if _we_ make it—I will. No more lost time."

* * *

The other half of the pair came to life; another amber beacon chasing away the shadows. The timestamp on this file was, ironically, an almost perfect echo of the first.

"Hey, Shepard." Garrus was leaning back against something out of view—probably the console in the main battery. "I thought I should leave you something, you know, in case we don't pull this one off. Not that I'm doubting you." He chuckled, a low rumble in his throat. "After the Omega 4 Relay, I don't think I'm allowed to doubt you any more though. Some days, I _still_ can't believe we made it back. So, I'm sure you'll pull off some sort of miracle this time, too."

He straightened up and absently scratched the back of his neck. "But, in case we don't… I wanted to tell you how much your friendship has meant to me. I don't think I'd realized how much, until you died. I never really told you how bad things got on Omega; all the things I did. I didn't want you to know." His jaw tensed. "Let's just say that your decision to keep me from shooting Sidonis was the right one, but… you already knew that.

"When you came back, when you found me… it was like everything was _right_ again." His mandibles opened, relaxing. "It wouldn't have mattered _what_ you'd asked me to do. As long as it was with you, I'd have had your back.

"Anyway… there's something I wanted to say. Something I've wanted to say for a long time." Garrus looked up, his eyes focusing just beyond the camera's lens. "I don't know if you'd want to but, if we make it out of this alive, I was thinking…" His words devolved into a growl. "Never mind. This was a bad idea."

The image stuttered; Garrus' holo form shifting into a new position—he was seated now—during the gap in time. He edged forward.

"Look, Shepard, I was lucky enough to get a second chance with you and I feel somehow like I've wasted that one, too. I don't know if we're going to get a third, but I sure as hell hope so." His subvocals dropped down into a lower register, rich and warm. "If you ever wanted… to be more than just friends, well, I want that, too. I don't know when it happened, Shepard, but sometimes, when you look at me, I can't help but think that you feel the same way.

"If that's not what you want…" He hesitated, flexing his talons. "I'm okay with that. I'm yours, as long as you'll have me. Always will be. I'm here, if you need me... but, you knew that already, too."

* * *

With the audio off, watching the two files playing simultaneously was a strange sort of dance. He would lean back and she would lean in; their choreography inexplicably synced. It was almost reminiscent of the combat missions they'd shared together, with Garrus pressing a spare heat sink into Shepard's hand before she'd even had to ask for it; an undercurrent—a rhythm—of awareness that had thrummed between them.

She'd considered deleting the files at first, but her instincts to gather, to collect, to study had been too ingrained to ignore. Truthfully, it had been easy to justify holding on to them. Who better than her to protect these final glimpses into a future that had never been?

No matter how many years had passed now, it was still a struggle not to weep as the time ran down; seconds scattering like grains of sand in the dry dust of her heart.

The two phantoms gazed into the nothingness of each other's eyes until the images winked out.

First Garrus;

Then, Shepard;

And the room fell into darkness.


End file.
